“There is no danger, effendi, if you do not think of danger.”
“But I do think of danger, sir. Why, bless my heart, sir, there isn’t room for a man to turn round and comfortably blow his nose.”
“There is plenty of room for the feet, effendi,” replied Yussuf; “the path is level, and if you will think of the beautiful rocks, and hills, and listen to the birds singing below there, where the stream is foaming, and the bushes grow amongst the rocks, there is no danger.”
“But I can’t think about the beauty of all these things, Yussuf, my man, and I can only think I am going to turn giddy, and that my feet are about to slip.”
“Why should you, effendi?” replied the Turk gravely. “Is it not given to man to be calm and confident, and to walk bravely on, in such places as this? He can train himself to go through what is dangerous to the timid without risk. Look at the young effendi!” he added in a whisper; “he sees no danger upon the path.”
“Upon my word! Really! Bless my heart! I say, Preston, do you hear how this fellow is talking to me?”
“Yes, I hear,” replied the professor. “He is quite right.”
“Quite right!”
“Certainly. I have several times over felt nervous, both in our climb this morning, and since we have been up here; but I feel now as if I have mastered my timidity, and I do not mind the path half so much as I did.”
“Then I’ve got your share and my own, and—now, just look at that boy. It is absurd.”